


You Want to Wake Up

by MajorEnglishEsquire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/pseuds/MajorEnglishEsquire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They've tried walking in every direction but some force stops them at an invisible boundary. It turns them around and shoves them back under the single point of illumination in the middle of the room.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>It's tearing at Dean's patience, wearing away his nerves.</i></p><p> </p><p>This is a story for <i>Angel pillow</i>, a piece of art found on <a href="http://preservedcucumbers.tumblr.com/post/15094383938">this post</a>, original fanart by <a href="http://preservedcucumbers.tumblr.com/">Pickles</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Want to Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> [PLEASE SEE THIS SPECTACULAR PIECE OF ART](http://preservedcucumbers.tumblr.com/post/15094383938). It is where the story comes from.
> 
> I do not own the rights to these characters, setting, show, etc. I am not the creator of the referenced art and hold no rights to it. No harm is intended.

They're stuck and unable to get out. After hours of raging at invisible walls, Dean has hit the point of exhaustion. He wants to lie down and sleep but can't take off his jacket because the temperature in this vast-- huge, gigantic-- this _who-knows-what_ , this big, empty space -- may drop even further and he doesn't wanna go hypothermic before he knows what's happening. So he can't take his jacket off to ball up under his head. And he's old enough now that he knows the consequence of sleeping, unaided, on nothing but the stone floor, will be a crick in his neck that will leave him susceptible to sudden attacks on his left side for months.

Cas, maddeningly Zen-like, as he's positive that Sam will figure it out and come get them, has been sitting in the middle of the floor with clear vantage points in all directions for the past couple hours now.

They've tried walking in every direction but some force stops them at an invisible boundary. It turns them around and shoves them back under the single point of illumination in the middle of the room.

It's tearing at Dean's patience, wearing away his nerves. The floor is flat and even, the room is massive and empty. The light above them doesn't illuminate the ceiling, so he can't even see what kind of structure is above them. It feels and smells like a museum. _Museum_ is the only word that keeps hooking and sticking in his mind. That makes him even more uncomfortable. Like him and Cas are now some part of a collection, zapped there by this week's baddie-- and shit. They hadn't even been in town long enough to know who they were up against.

He paces for something to do. He'd like to run at the walls but the barrier is soft and unreachable. He'd like to walk the entire length of the room, even if it is its own _planet_ and he just ends up back where he started. It's a bland hell; a nightmare of sameness. He'd take Purgatory back a dozen times over this.

He's working himself up, muttering and raging in turn.

Still, Cas sits.

He doesn't freak out as much as he could, maybe, because Cas simply _sits_. If he were to throw a full-on tantrum, Cas would be witness to it. And damn him, he'd only rise in concern, he'd only attempt to reason with Dean.

He doesn't know what he wants to do, what he _can_ do, what he's even capable of here. But he doesn't want to overflow his own personal brand of crazy all over Cas. Cas has already done his time in the mess of a disturbed mind. He can grant that his faith in Sam is warranted. Sam is on the outside, after all, and a badass hunter in his own right. He can hold that kind of faith, too.

So Dean stills his hands from clutching at the air and he keeps his jaw locked tight. Maybe keeps his pacing centered around the angel in the middle of the floor. And he tells himself to take it easy. Cas has been locked up before. He has the same fighting instincts as the Winchesters. If he's not freaking out, it's not time for Dean to freak out yet.

Dean passes again, scrubbing at his face and looking borderline exhausted, Cas reaches up and snags his hand. Dean tries to tug back but Cas says, "you're tired."

He tries to say that he's fine. But he _is_ tired. Too worked up to sleep, maybe, but fucking fall-down tired. He can't do anything about it. Won't ask Cas to give up his jacket because he doesn't know if Cas gets cold, but he knows him well enough by now to understand he'd give the coat up and never mention he needed it simply because Dean was using it.

Cas tugs at him again and Dean drops to sit next to him. Maybe he can just lean there for a while and chase a doze.

But Cas tugs at his sleeve now. "Come lie down."

Dean grumbles how he doesn't want to, but his head lolls in the direction that Cas lightly pulls him. Then he kind of gives up.

"Just wake me when-- if anyone comes i-- just wake me up if anything happens."

Cas promises he will.

Dean goes to lay down but Cas pulls him closer. "It's cold here. You should stay close."

Dean has zero energy left to argue with. It could be for his benefit as well as Castiel's anyway-- warmth. Cas gives him that excuse. Then pulls him forward, the gentling touch probably more than a little angelic. Helping him get to sleep before he can think too hard on the arrangement.

Cas scoots to sit with his legs apart and there Dean finds a somewhat comfortable position in the crook of Cas's knee.

Where he absolutely passes the fuck out.

«»

When he doesn't have to worry about Dean stressing himself into some kind of stumbling stupor, Cas can keep guard while he sleeps. Cas is silent and still throughout his vigil and holds one hand on Dean to monitor his vitals and make sure the cold ground doesn't drop his internal temperature to an unsafe level. He will use grace to warm him if he must, but he knows Dean doesn't like for him to pry. The hand laying on him is the least of the concessions he must make.

And for hours, nothing moves. Not a thing in their dark world. No change in pressure or oxygen content. The light above does not hum from electricity, nor does any machinery kick on to circulate the air. Cas reaches out with all the senses he can access and there's no variation, nothing else to see. Either his power has been cut off or held within this place or they've been removed to some pocket of a dimension where they do him no good.

Flight would be inadvisable from here. And he's not sure if Dean would get caught up behind him.

He waits. Sam was not with them when they were taken and so he must still be out there trying to find his brother. Nothing will stop him. Nothing ever does.

«»

Dean wakes up knowing exactly where he still is and Sam is on _his_ mind, too. He's disappointed that the big galoot hasn't shown up to rescue them yet.

Dean's not entirely comfortable, but he is warm and sleepy. Well-rested and still tired. Like he could drop off for another ten days. He rolls over in Cas's lap and Cas shifts to allow it easily. He keeps his hand on Dean as he shifts and normally he'd be self-conscious about their placement, but even Cas's fingers trailing towards Dean's belly don't make him anxious. He pulls up the sleeve of his jacket and yawns into it.

Cas is Cas. Dean feels strangely understood by him no matter how often they've found themselves at odds. And if Cas had found something disgusting about his form, in all the time Dean's been asleep under his touch, it's too late to hide it. Dean might have a soft stomach from too many beers and a body roughed up by monsters and age. Even through his layers of clothing, his armor, he can be kinda, you know, _sensitive_ and self-loathing about the exact size and shape of his body. But Cas is Cas. Either he knows already or he doesn't care. If Dean were to swat his hand away, he'd shift back out of Dean's personal space immediately.

After all this time, though?

He yawns again and his hands fall to his belly and he stares up at Cas's familiar profile.

Castiel only looks as stony and vigilant as ever. Offers no opinion on Dean's conscious state or unspoken insecurities. Dean blinks up at him. He doesn't feel his emerging smile until Cas starts smiling, too, just slightly, and looks down to him.

"How long was I out?"

"You were very tired. It's been about 14 hours."

Dean tsks. "God, Sam, hurry the fuck up."

Cas nods a little in agreement. But he doesn't shift or look like he expects Dean to move off of him.

It's still not comfortable, exactly, with the solid floor underneath them. But it is warm. And this is Cas. Cas gives him everything he shouldn't.

So he stays there for a while longer, lounging. Cas looks down each end of the room and then back down to meet his eyes after a few more long moments. Dean smiles and Cas smiles back again.

"Did you sleep well?" he finally asks, simply to make conversation.

"Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Cas." It's barely audible.

"You're welcome," Cas says, so very quietly.

His fingers splay out on Dean's side, two fingers now spanning over Dean's hip.

Dean's heart starts beating faster. So rapid and strange that he feels it in his shoulders, the whole span of his frame that Cas's legs are cradling.

Before Cas can look away again, Dean reaches up and stops him with just the tips of his fingers to Cas's chin.

Cas keeps his gaze steady on Dean, patient, bestowing all his attention.

Dean feels his heart slamming. Juddering his lungs, it feels like. Thudding into his spine.

He curves those fingers up over Cas's jaw and runs them higher. Cas's eyes slip closed and he rubs his face against the palm, just a little, dipping his head so Dean can more easily reach whatever he wishes to.

Dean curves his hand up to the back of Cas's head and tugs him down close.

"Thanks," he repeats, otherwise blank, otherwise unsure and frozen except for the fingers drawing Cas closer down to him.

Castiel adjusts how he sits so he can drop lower over Dean while keeping him settled in his lap, not forcing him to adjust or move at all. He bends low and brushes his nose against Dean's.

It's strange and kind of funny and kind of intimate all at once. Cas pulls up a little and opens his eyes and smiles. 

Dean really grins. Cas is a goofball, he decides.

"Wanna try that again?"

Cas looks nervous now. He does dip closer once more but waits for Dean to direct him down with his hands. To lean up a little and bring their lips to meet in a tentative, soft kiss.

Cas's hand slides from his side to his hip. His hip to his belly. He kisses, small pecks melting into the real thing, as his hand runs over Dean's shirt, up to his chest, reverent and still over his jackhammer heart.

He presses into the kisses now and Dean kisses back, clutching the back of his head and drawing him down at this low angle, his bendy angel. Cas doesn't protest or readjust. He is simply there to follow every lead of Dean's lips, to kiss bolder and wetter, to kiss _into_ mouths instead of on them.

Cas's hand fists in Dean's shirt. He is connected to Dean in a way Dean still doesn't completely understand. He knows Cas can see more, can see through humans if he wishes, he knows Cas can see straight into his head if he doesn't ask him to keep out. So he knows he feels that rapid heartbeat and the way his lungs work to stave off the moment they have to part. He knows Cas can feel what this is doing to him.

It's good. So good.

His fingers relax when Dean drops away to pull in air. They clench again when Dean presses up into the kiss once more. Tense-release.

Dean can't pull Cas down beside him. They're still stuck in this invisible whatever. This unmovable place.

But it feels better to have Cas's hands on him. He gentles Dean's body into his warmth and embrace. Eases him, physically, so that his body knows what his mind can't settle on: that he's protected and won't come to harm. He's okay to rest and Cas will maintain him.

Fourteen hours of sleep. Seven of pacing before that. And before they'd gotten stuck in here, it had been two hours since he'd eaten. Almost a full day since he's eaten and his stomach isn't in knots with need for food or drink. Maybe Cas is helping more than he's letting on. Maybe there are threads of his grace already sinking in and easing him. Maybe, if Cas pulls away, Dean's calm will retreat, too.

(Or maybe, if he pulls away, Dean is fucking coming up after him.)

They have no idea why they're here or how they got here. Could be any of a hundred nefarious bastards, ghosts, grudge-holders, and gods. But Dean lay calm, nestled into Castiel. Staring up at his stoic face, pulling him away from his vigil at random to bite his lip a little, kiss his nose, share breath.

He finally notices the light, directly above them, is dimmed. And, looking around himself, at the outline of the silhouette he's lying inside of, he determines that Cas is holding one wing aloft to shade him. Has probably been doing it since he laid down to sleep.

Cas won't be exhausted from it. And he's still watching over Dean as he simply lazes there. He's doing everything to make sure Dean's comfortable.

Dean feels compelled to give back.

When he sits up, Cas scoots away to give him room. But Dean rolls his shoulders, comes around and pulls Cas back in.

Settled behind him, he is able to press his lips against Cas's ear and he says, "My turn, 'kay?"

«»

When, between one blink and the next, they reappear on the pavement next to where the Impala is parked, Cas sits where they had been in the blank space. Upright, between Dean's raised knees, arms around each other, his dark hair tucked beneath Dean's chin.

Dean blinks and shakes himself at the sudden shift in reality and far-off holler of Sam's voice calling his name.

He thunks his head back against the car door and smiles wide.

Somehow, he came back home from an empty room with more than he had when he left.

**Author's Note:**

> ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbEVzpdOlVg))


End file.
